


So hold my hand, I'll walk with you

by symphorine



Category: Leverage
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Established Relationship, Leverage Thing A Thon, Multi, Post-Series, more or less I just really wanted to use this tag, read the author's note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphorine/pseuds/symphorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When he looked up, the baby had finally calmed down, but there was a wide-eyed-panic quality to Parker and Eliot's expressions, which he imagined were only mirrors of his own. A few second passed, their gaze drawn to the little child who was apparently called Allison, then back to each others, and it seemed like an eternity until Parker cleared her throat.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I don't think she was meant for us.”</i></p><p> </p><p>Or: someone left a baby on their doorstep and they have to care for her until they can find (and rescue) the parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So hold my hand, I'll walk with you

**Author's Note:**

> **Mentions of violence (not graphic or very detailed), wounds (one part about stitching towards the end), usual level of fighting. If anything else makes you uncomfortable, comment or message me and I'll add a warning here.**
> 
>  
> 
> This is a fic I really liked working on. As I'm french, it was a challenge to write in english, and especially try to have the characters be more like themselves than some generic voice, and I keep mixing some things up. My eternal gratitude to [bydaybreak](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bydaybreak/pseuds/bydaybreak) for taking the time to look at it and help me!
> 
> Basically this is me trying to make the ot3 start to work out their issues with kids and see if one day they could be parents.
> 
> This work is complete, but I might add a few works to this, because I have a tendancy to make characters go into introspection all the time, so I cut these parts but I want to have more detailed explanations of how they all came in this fic to have their perspective on kids, having them, being parents, and how that would relate to their relationship and themselves in general.
> 
> Any remaining errors are mine. Hope you'll like it!

 Hardison got up with all the grace of a baby elephant, which didn't matter much, seeing as he was alone in the bedroom. In fact, he realized as he crossed the living room and stepped into the kitchen, he was the only person in the apartment. A quick glance at his phone told him that he had waken up at an ungodly hour, for someone who'd fallen asleep by four in the morning, and that Eliot was probably on a morning run while Parker was – elsewhere. They'd long since given up on keeping up with her and knowing where she was at every moment of the day, after she'd made it clear she needed her privacy. And had demonstrated that tracking her phone was useless.

 So Hardison sat at the table, pulling out one of the numerous cereal boxes Parker always insisted on buying and poured himself a generous portion, checking on the news while he ate. They'd just finished a job, and had none lined up for the next few days, and as far as he knew, nothing to do at any point that day, so he took his time, enjoying some quiet laziness. As much as they'd rubbed off on each other, after all these years, Parker and Eliot were both still way more active than him, almost restless, never really able to take their time and relax – except, maybe, when Eliot was cooking and Parker was preparing her next jump off a building. His nana had cared for a couple of hyperactive kids, but it was a different kind of restlessness, nervous and tense. Like they'd have to pack up and leave at any moment, and he got that old habits died hard, that for a long time they'd _had_ to stay on guard, but sometimes he wished it would fade, that they would – _settle_ , in a way.

 Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the door opening at first. They'd debated on whether to keep the god-awful creaking, in case someone would somehow be both good and stupid enough to try to enter their home from here, but after being roused from very much needed sleep four times in a row, they'd agreed on silencing the hinges for good. So it was just a movement in the corner of his eye, no noise.

 Until a shrill sound made him leap from his chair in pure reflex, spoon ready in his hand, before he realized that pitiful cries were following, and Eliot was standing in the doorway, sweaty and a little out of breath, his arms full, looking lost.

 “Eliot, what the _hell_ is that?”

 “A baby,” Eliot snapped, no real heat in his voice.

 Their eyes were still fixed on the little human Eliot had picked up and was rocking back and forth, trying to appease it. Him. Her.

 “Where did you even find a baby? Did you steal it? Because we'll need to have a serious talk if you did,” Hardison babbled as he kept watching, mesmerized.

 “Yes, Hardison, I stole a goddamned baby, 'cause I have nothing better to do with my time,” Eliot rolled his eyes.

 His grip on the still sniffling baby remained firm when Parker appeared behind him, a bassinet in her hands, and peered curiously above his shoulder, practically draping herself over him.

 “She was left on the porch” Parker filled in, “and this was with her,” she waved a small wrapped package.

 She handed it to him and he saw that she'd already opened it, and likely read the letter he grabbed from inside the package.

 The letter itself was short, handwritten, but bore several crossing-outs before getting to the point. What had been left untouched amounted to a few words that he read aloud: “She cannot stay with us. Keep her safe, please.”

 Hardison checked the other things inside the envelope: birth certificate bearing the name Allison – and she was barely eleven months old, probably already trying to say words –, child health record book, and a picture of two people, a man and a woman, black-haired and roughly the same height, holding hands and smiling a the camera. He turned the picture around, but there was no name or date written on the back.

 When he looked up, the baby had finally calmed down, but there was a wide-eyed-panic quality to Parker and Eliot's expressions, which he imagined were only mirrors of his own.

 A few second passed, their gaze drawn to the little child who was apparently called Allison, then back to each others, and it seemed like an eternity until Parker cleared her throat.

 “I don't think she was meant for us.”

 

///

 

 Eliot had handed the girl to Hardison, who still wasn't even dressed, and gone to take a shower. The parents were easy to find, taking the birth certificate as a starting point. The father, Samuel Sato, was a librarian, and the mother, Mary, bore the name of her husband and was a nurse in one of Portland's hospitals. This didn't really give away any reason they could have had to drop off their baby and take off, except maybe the usual borrowing-money-to-shady-people business. If they'd been threatened, it could make sense they'd want to give the baby to someone they could trust.

 However, a quick research on their families determined that they either lived far away from Portland or didn't even have an address that looked like theirs.

 Hardison had tried to hand the kid over to Parker so he could do the research himself, but seeing the face she made when confronted to the baby, he'd given up, directing her instead. He got it, he'd been used to it, with some of his foster-siblings, and it was almost instinctive to him, but baby-handling wasn't for everyone. He doubted Parker'd had many occasions to spend time with one.

 When Eliot came out of the bathroom, hair still damp – and wasn't that making it obvious how much this was upsetting them, because usually he would spend _so much time_ during and after his shower putting, like, a ton of products in his hair, but he couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes – Hardison and Parker had moved on making a list of close friends of the parents, based on their social networks accounts, and checking where they lived. They'd also checked the CCTV on the street, but they weren't in good shape and they couldn't see anything useful.

 Frustrated, Hardison dumped Allison on Eliot again, careful not to wake her up, and went to put on at least a pair of pants. He glanced back as he stepped out of the room, taking in Parker who still watched the child as if she was going to explode, or break, or something; and Eliot rocking her slowly, a hand carefully placed under her neck.

 

///

 

 The thing was, even after spending the rest of the morning alternating between researching, running to the store to get baby-caring necessities – and toys, because no way they were letting her chew on whatever she found here –, changing diapers, feeding Allison and checking downstairs on the brewpub to know if anyone had come looking for a baby – you never knew – they hadn't gone much further. By the time he'd finished triple-checking for any friends of Samuel and Mary in the area, he was tempted to give up and believe that they'd just dropped the baby at random. Which didn't help, at all.

 “Still nothing?” Parker checked after a particularly dramatic sigh, eyes fixed on the pulled out sofa bed where they'd laid down the baby. She was slightly snoring, wriggling a little in her sleep.

 “I don't think we'll have any results with this,” Hardison admitted, leaning back in his chair.

 “So we find the parents,” Eliot intervened, his eyes darting in the same direction as Parker, making sure Allison wouldn't fall in her sleep.

 “I'm trying too, but so far the standard stuff isn't giving me anything either.”

 “How can– They're a couple of ordinary people, as far as we know, no way they could disappear like that!”

 “Well they _have_ , because I can't even find a bank transaction in the last six days. Didn't even take out cash recently, it's really like they just vanished. Almost creepy.”

 “You sure you didn't miss anything?”

 “Do _I_ tell _you_ how to hit people?”

 “If all evidence was physical,” Parker interrupted “thenyou'd find nothing. We need to check out their house too. Where do they live again?”

 “Ten minutes from here, little house with one story and a nice yard. What,” he added, “I just looked at their pictures. I'm driving,” he said as Eliot rolled his eyes and stood up.

 “What about the baby?” Parker asked.

 Hardison understood her hesitation, but there was no way he was staying here while they were gone just to keep an eye on Allison.

 “I can keep her with me in the van while you take a look inside. I'll just bring toys and food in case she wakes up.”

 Neither of his lovers looked pleased with the idea, but they'd gotten used to going on pretty much every job together if they didn't have to be elsewhere, and it was a habit hard to break. And you _never_ knew when you needed another person to help.

 “Okay, let's go,” Parker decided.

 

///

 

 He'd pulled up blueprints and was already looking for nearby cameras by the time they got into the house. The girl had woken up, but she wasn't crying or asking for her parents, aside the occasional semi-articulate sound, and seemed content enough to play with the few toys Parker'd grabbed at the store. She didn't need a change yet either, thank god, because he knew how to change a diaper, but he doubted it was anybody's favorite hobby – it certainly wasn't his.

 He was only distractedly following the conversation on the other side, still searching for any trace of the missing Sato spouses from his computer, but then he heard a commotion and a string of curses in Eliot's voice, covering Parker's laugh.

 “What happened?”

 “ _I fell down the damn stairs – stop laughing, Parker, it's not_ funny _!_ ”

 “Stealthy,” Hardison snorted.

 He heard a few giggles, but they soon resumed their exploration of the house. They'd gotten in through the back door and Eliot had fallen in the basement, so he followed their progression through their indications – left, kitchen, right, bathroom, then living room and stairs to the first floor.

 They looked for bugs and cameras inside and found none, then peppered the furniture with their own, and soon Hardison had eyes and ears everywhere they'd been. The whole place was until there completely clean, nothing out of place or lying around. The fridge and cupboards were empty, and everything was turned off. No beeping or light, save for Eliot and Parker's flashlights.

 “ _If these guys were involved in something against their will, it's weird there's no surveillance,_ ” Eliot remarked as he and Parker stepped on the first floor.

 “ _Maybe only their computers and phones were bugged?_ ”

 “If they were in so much shit they had to run away without their girl, I'd put cameras all over the house if I was the guy they owed money to.”

 “ _Yeah, but it's still just a hypothesis, maybe they didn't get in trouble with anyone, just..._ ”

 “ _What, wanted a new life?_ ”

 Parker's voice rang in their ears, clear as a bell and laced with a touch of sadness and a lot of resentment. Eliot didn't add anything after that. They entered the first room, describing it quickly to Hardison.

 It was the parents' room, blinds closed and as pristine clean as the rest of the house. The room on the other side of the corridor was the baby's bedroom, as spotless as the ground floor. They found nothing more here, but figured that they might as well bring back clothes and toys with them for Allison. Hardison checked on her, but she was still playing happily on the floor, away from a,ything fragile or dangerous.

 In the last room were two laptops, stacked neatly next to each other on a desk. Bookshelves covered the walls, with a small closet where an old coat was still hanging, along with the kind of stuff people just put away wherever they could and forgot about, like an old pair of shoes and several cardboard boxes. Parker and Eliot turned them on, and not a minute later Hardison had access to everything on them while the others looked around some more. But the desk, trashcan and computers were all as empty as the rest of the house.

 “ _This feels almost supernatural._ _Either these guys had a lot of practice in leaving not trace behind or they were taken by aliens_ ,” Eliot grunted, sitting dejectedly at the desk.

 “ _Or maybe they were clean freaks, who knows._ ”

 “Guys, wait. 's far as we know they've been gone for, what, almost a week?”

 “ _Yeah,_ _about that long, why?_ ” Paker answered.

 “Last log is from this morning. On both of them. And the battery's only half full on one of them.”

 “ _So someone came before us?_ ”

 There was a beat, and then...

 “ _Well_ someone _fucking cleaned everything_.”

 “And I doubt that's the Satos. It wouldn't make sense to come back and leave your computer behind.”

 “ _So we were probably right. Money tight, borrow money, can't give back with interests, threats, and in this case, running for your life. Or your baby's life_ ,” Parker added after a thoughtful pause.

 “But I didn't find anything on their accounts. Unless the people they're running from are better than me, there should still be something.”

 “ _Who_ are _they running from anyway_ _? This isn't the mob's style,_ ” Eliot said.

 “ _So a lone shark,_ _probably_ _. A v_ ery _meticulous lone shark. I mean, it even looks like_ _they_ _dusted everything off. Ooooh, or maybe_ _they're_ _allergic?_ ”

 “ _Even then, cleaning everything seems a bit extreme._ _Everything's practically lined up by height and color._ ”

 “Maybe they wanted to try living here, taking the house as interest,” Hardison joked.

 He only heard a huff and an amused “Huh.” on the other side of the line. He knew the joke was weak, but they'd been tense the whole morning. He hadn't thought Parker's initial reaction would last, and Eliot had seemed to do fine with the baby in his arms, yet they were both more nervous than usual, too serious. He was about to ask about it, caution be damned, because if he didn't push them they would probably be fine with never talking about their feelings, at all, when a strange noise drew his attention to the living room.

 He suddenly wasn't so sure his remark had been a joke when he saw three people open the entry door and step in.

 “Shit, Parker, Eliot, you've gotta hide, there are people downstairs and– _of course_ they're coming up!”

 He heard frantic whispering and the soft sound of a chair being wheeled back to its place, and he tried to get a good look at the two women and man who were taking the stairs, not bothering being quiet. He didn't know them, but started the research for a facial match in the different databases he had at his disposition.

 “ _In the closet, now!_ ”

 “ _Why,_ _we_ _can take them!_ ”

 “ _Get in, Eliot!_ ”

 “Guys, they're almost there.”

 He heard a slight creak and then saw the three strangers come in. There was no immediate assault or surprised cries in his camera's vision field; Eliot and Parker had been just fast enough to hide.

 

///

 

 “Sato said it was here, so look everywhere,” said one of the women, tall and dark-haired. “We're looking for a red cover, and it's probably protected to avoid degradation, so look for a safe too.”

 The others nodded, the second, red-haired woman rolling her eyes briefly, and then disappeared from Parker's narrow line of sight. She could hear Eliot breathing next to her, as quietly as possible, but they both knew that they would be discovered soon.

 They'd considered it being about medication or drugs, and put that possibility aside because the hospital's stocks had been clear. It was still possible, but trouble big enough to force them to abandon everything would be more noticeable. Then they'd toyed with the idea of this being about books, rare or ancient, but it had seemed far too unlikely. Libraries sometimes were loaned precious tomes, and the father's workplace was one specialized in history and historical treaties, but nothing had showed up in any records, and the place looked far too miserable for anyone to trust it with something more valuable than the average book.

 Looked like they'd been wrong, which would annoy Parker if she wasn't in a freaking closet, inches away from the people who had _probably_ kidnapped the baby's parents. _Assholes_.

 “ _Oh, great, no, please don't cry- guys, distraction's coming, hold on._ ”

 “And what the _hell_ are you gonna do?” Eliot hissed as low as he could.

 “ _Well when I say distraction, I mean I_ _just_ _called the cops._ _Said there was someone with a gun threatening people on the street_ _._ _They should be here any minute,_ _the station is literally two streets over,_ _the sirens should scare them off_. _Yes Allison, I'll get you food, stop looking at me like that._ ”

 “Dammit Hardison, the _cops_?”

 Parker kicked him in the shin, but his voice was covered by the noise the three intruders were making.

 “ _Somehow I don't think just ringing the bell will make them go away, so yes, the cops!_ ”

 Parker didn't like the idea of having to slip past the cops, too, but it should be easy enough, and if _only_ they could slip a tracker on one of the others or in their car...

 She pushed the door slightly, the light noise covered by the heavy steps of the man dragging a pile of books into a corner. They'd emptied the bookshelves and already gone through their contents, throwing away everything that wasn't what they were looking for, and were now standing around, hands empty.

 Parker took a step back in their hiding place and nodded at Eliot, letting him stand behind the door, then listened as the three others shared the results of their fruitless search.

 “It can't be missing, he said it was hidden here,” the man repeated, wrinkling his hands nervously.

 “Maybe if you hadn't hit him so damn hard he could have told us more,” the dark-haired woman spit.

 “It can't be that he disguised it as another book, right?” the second woman asked, looking at the pile of books they'd just gone through like she wanted to burn it all.

 “He wouldn't have had the time. It was too fragile, and he wanted to keep it intact. We've already established he didn't dump it somewhere while they tried to run, so it can only be in the house, and he said it was here, so where _the fuck_ is it?”

 “Hey, did anyone try the closet yet?”

 Parker couldn't see the room anymore, but she _felt_ three pairs of eyes turning in their direction, and a shiver ran up her spine. Eliot tensed, steps rushed towards them, and then the door was yanked open.

 The guy only had the time to look surprised before Eliot knocked him out, but then the second woman, bulkier than Parker had realized, stepped in front of him and they started a heated fight. She slipped out and let a tracker fall into the man's pocket, then threw herself at the last woman, who was drawing a gun and pointing it right at the two fighters. Parker didn't think, didn't even hear Hardison's worried voice in her ear, and hit her with all her strength. The gun still went off, but only hit the ceiling, and she twisted the woman's wrist until she dropped the weapon, clipping a second GPS tracker on her.

 She stepped back and turned, only to see that the man was standing up again, and Eliot was still busy with the other woman who had pulled a knife, and everyone froze for a moment as a distinctive sound could be heard from the street.

 She had never been so happy to hear the cops' siren.

 The three accomplices looked at each other and scrambled off.

 “ _Guys? Eliot? Parker? What happened? Are you okay?_ ”

 “Hardison, I planted two of your trackers on them, can you follow them?”

 “ _Hold on, yeah, I got them. You wanna go after them now?_ ”

 “No, we're heading home. If they're not completely stupid they won't go back to their place too soon, not after seeing us. Plus Eliot's hurt.” she added, making a warning face at him when he started to pretend he was fine. “I can _see_ you limping, you know.”

 “She was good. One more minute and I'd have knocked her out, but she was good,” Eliot remarked as he wiped the blood from a small cut on his jaw.

 “Doesn't matter right now. Let's get out of here.”

 “ _Allison just threw up on me._ ”

 

///

 

 Parker drove them home, while Hardison simultaneously complained about his ruined shirt and fed the baby again, and Eliot tried to patch himself up. He didn't seem to have any serious injuries, but then again he'd tried once or twice to hide a broken bone or a horrible muscle pain, dismissing it as “nothing” when they asked, so they kept an eye on him now. When they arrived, she pulled him behind her and forced him to sit on the couch, then brought their first aid kit and glared at him until he gave in, and stripped so she could take a look at him herself.

 His skin was always bruised, and various shades of yellow and purple were blooming across his ribs, a few dark blues joining them, but that was all. Most of the little scrapes and cuts he'd gotten were already healing. When she checked his joints however, Eliot couldn't hide his faint wince.

 “Sprained wrist, idiot,” Parker noted flatly. “I'm bringing ice and bandages, don't move.”

 “It's _fine_ Parker.”

 “You're taking pain-killers too!” Hardison yelled from the bathroom where he'd gone to dump his shirt and clean the baby.

 “I don't need painki- _Parker_!” he yelled as she shoved the ice in his face.

 “Stop being stupid and put that on your wrist,” she ordered.

 He reluctantly accepted the ice cubs in a towel and wrapped it around his arm, muttering under his breath.

 “There, happy?”

 “Very much,” Parker smiled.

 They heard the water start running, and Hardison singing to the baby. Ten seconds passed without a word, twenty, forty. Parker was twisting her hair between her fingers, aware of Eliot looking at her, but refused to cross his eyes. She already knew what she'd find there, and it was always some kind of relief to know he understood her, especially when Hardison didn't get it, but not this time.

 “Hardison's pretty taken with the kid already,” Eliot said softly.

 Parker turned her head at his words and yes, here it was, the low voice and the soft face and the eyes, looking at her, _analyzing_ her almost. And all of it was genuine, which had been the hardest thing to believe, she could see it in the way he was less tense, more relaxed. Sophie had taught her how to use what she saw in people, but she'd known how to read them long before, and this was Eliot open and trusting and _vulnerable_ , and for a second she marveled at that still.

 Because this was a two-way thing, always. Eliot understood, but she did, too. He let her see the dark corners, the forgotten wounds and old regrets, and it was never like a mirror, but like the same drawing with different colors, different directions for similar things, similar hurts.

 She'd never longed for a normal family, like she knew Eliot had once, like she knew Hardison had wanted, at some point. She didn't know what the whole typical 'mom and dad and kids and a dog in a house' felt like, and didn't want to. She had gotten Archie, but he had his own family; and then she'd been alone, and in a way, it had been perfect. She had no responsibilities, she had been free like the air, felt like she was invincible; like she had wings and could fly everywhere she wanted.

 She'd never thought she was lonely, then, but now, she wouldn't go back for anything. She liked what she had, she'd worked hard for it, and they all deserved it, so she couldn't mess it up. They changed together, stayed together, all three of them, so she'd thought about trying for them – adopt, maybe, try to make room for someone else into their lives. She'd thought she could adapt.

 “He shouldn't. We'll have to give her back, when we find the Satos,” Parker retorted, getting up.

 She didn't want to linger on the hint of regret in her voice, because _she was trying_ , but kids – kids were scary. She knew firsthand how much you could fuck them up for life, and you didn't get a second try, and she needed air, needed to forget this until they had to go back to work. She had to make her brain busy with something else, because she refused to think about all this.

 She was ready to take off and walked to their room, already picking her next harness to test, when Hardison opened the bathroom door just in front of her.

 “Hey, you mind taking her?” he held out the baby in front of her, smiling and waving her arms. “I wanna take a shower too, I still smell like puke.”

 “Uh. I just, I think-”

 She made the mistake of extending her arms a little; Hardison shoved Allison between them and she was forced to hold her.

 “Thank you,” he beamed at her. “Oh, and here are the painkillers for Eliot.”

 She took them with her free hand and tried protesting again, but he'd closed the door already. She suspected it was on purpose, but she had more pressing matters at hand.

 The kid was wriggling on her shoulder. Parker placed the painkillers in her pocket and held Allison at arm's length. She was babbling, nonsense sounds, and drooling a little, but the boys hadn't said anything about it, so she assumed it was normal.

 “Parker, bring her here, you can't stand there forever!” Eliot called from the couch.

 “Okay, okay, I'm coming, just, don't move,” she reminded him.

 After a few seconds of internal debate, she brought the baby close to her and held her against her chest as she made her way back to her starting point. She dug up the painkillers and threw them at Eliot, then sat down beside him, her hand carefully replaced behind her neck. She had no idea when babies' necks were solid enough to hold their heads, and she wasn't going to take any risks.

 “You can- turn her around, you know, with her back to you on your laps,” Eliot observed after swallowing a pill.

 “I know.”

 She didn't move yet. She had held gems worth billions in her hands and treated them with less care – and still it felt like something would go wrong any second. She lifted Allison slowly, and found herself face-to-face with her, her own breathing heavier than usual but her hands firm. The baby laughed, showing her almost toothless mouth, and Parker tried to return a shaky smile. She turned her around, sitting her on her thighs, back and head firmly pressed to her own stomach.

 “She's trying to look at everything,” Eliot grinned. “Hey there.”

 He waved his non injured hand and smiled as Allison followed it attentively, then tried to grab a finger. Parker felt the tension in her shoulders set in, but she shoved any unwelcome thought aside. She wasn't going to hand the baby to Eliot, since he still held the ice, so she would just have to wait until Hardison came back. She could do that. Just holding, without moving, was – still weird, but alright. Allison wouldn't fall, and she was being distracted enough by Eliot that she stayed calm. It was alright.

 It was alright.

 

///

 

 Eliot kept letting the baby play with his fingers, and when she got bored he reached for one of her toys. They'd made a quick detour when they'd left the house, grabbing clothes and a few stuffed animals and baby toys for the kid. He hoped they would find the parents soon, so she could go back to her real family, but they had to take care of her in the meantime.

 From what they'd heard from the intruders, they were still alive, if probably shaken by beatings and rough treatment. They still weren't sure why they'd left their daughter to them, or even how they knew of them – hell, they'd ruled out the possibility of confusing an address, so maybe this had just been a coincidence. A big, weird, improbable coincidence.

 His left hand felt cold and numb. He wanted to get up and get rid of the ice cubs, which were starting to melt and drip on him, but he could tell Parker was one step away from simply freaking out, so he stayed where he was, waiting for Hardison to relay her.

 He mostly talked to the baby, taking his hand back. She was alert, taking in everything she could.

 “She's gonna be smart someday,” he whispered.

 Half a day and already he was talking about the baby's future. So much for not getting attached too soon to a kid that wasn't his.

 The bathroom door opened again and Hardison stepped out, clean but without a shirt on, his phone in his hand.

 “They've been driving around for an hour now, but they're turning back. We should get a location soon,” he explained when he dropped on Parker's other side. “Are you okay?” he added when he noticed the unusually intense look on her face.

 “I'm gonna heat up leftovers,” she declared abruptly, handing him the baby. “We have to eat before we go out again.”

 “I could do tha– I mean, okay, give me Allison,” he corrected himself when Parker glared at him.

 He lifted her easily from Parker's hand and propped her against his shoulder. They all followed her retreat to the kitchen, with what looked like a bit of disappointment on Hardison's face.

 “Do you plan on keeping this?” Hardison inquired with a chin gesture toward the towel filled with ice, dripping all over Eliot's arm.

 “No,” Eliot grunted.

 Neither of them moved much, however, too busy looking at Allison and her smiling face. It was a wonder she wasn't crying more; in Eliot's experience, babies cried all the time. Especially at night. But he guessed that, if everything went right, they wouldn't even have the opportunity to see if Allison did. Which was a _good_ thing, of course, but having a baby in his arms again had felt...

 Parker was right. They were going to have to give her back, in the near future, and introducing a baby into their daily life wasn't something they'd planned on, ever. He should leave it alone.

 The microwave dinged, and soon Parker was back, effortlessly balancing three plates, forks and knives in her arms. She dropped everything on the small table next to the couch and, after Eliot took the ice off his wrist, they started eating, Hardison regularly checking his phone to see if the trackers had stopped on the map. He let Allison down on the ground before he took his plate, all of them keeping an eye on her as she set out with energy in the general direction of the toys they'd bought for her.

 Maybe they'd give them to the parents, too. They'd certainly have more use for it than them.

 Parker was bandaging his wrist, insisting it would help – and, well, it was, but he was probably going to fight again in the very near future, so maybe it wasn't necessary – when Hardison let out a victory cry.

 “Ah-ha! Got 'em!” Hardison exclaimed, throwing his fork on his plate as he grabbed his phone. “They're just on the other side of town.”

 “Let's go then,” Eliot tried to stand up, but Parker didn't let go of his wrist, and he had to sit back down.

 “Wait, do we take Allison with us again?” Hardison asked.

 “Yes,” Parker answered, without hesitation. “Same as before, you'll keep her with you in the van.”

 Hardison nodded, and went to collect the baby and everything assorted. Eliot seriously hoped she'd take a nap because she hadn't slept much since he'd found her this morning, and it was already already mid-afternoon, and he knew that a tired baby could be hell. Although Hardison's chronic insomnia would probably come in handy, if they found themselves keeping her for the night. Which he doubted, and really, they shouldn't spend too much time with the baby, because Hardison was already acting like she was their kid, and he could feel himself slipping down that road, and Parker – even Parker, when she'd held the baby, had looked like she didn't think this was such a bad thing after all. She'd tensed and practically bolted out of the couch when she could, but there had been something, and maybe she–

 But that was the problem. They couldn't have Allison, because she wasn't their daughter, and maybe after this, one day they'd all have warmed up to the idea of having a kid, but he couldn't see how that would work. They were criminals, _thieves_ , with a dangerous job and a number of enemies that kept growing, and maybe they _could_ make a kid fit, maybe, but it wouldn't be a good life.

 Hardison came back with Allison, and they were gone.

 

///

 

 This was really too easy. The place was an old house, although as clean as the Satos', with so little security it was disappointing. For people who'd almost gotten caught, they were surprisingly careless. No cameras outside, no padlocks – not that it would have been any use with Parker here to open them, but this was the _basics_. Eliot was starting to wonder if they shouldn't give them a lecture on proper crime etiquette before they handed them to the nearest authority.

 Of course it could also be a trap. In which case they were happily throwing themselves in it. But he knew Parker had at least three backup plans in case it actually was one, and ten others for every possible unlucky development. Probably had thought of half a dozen more just in the car.

 Both of them had entered through an unlocked window – _seriously?_ This was pathetic – then split up to cover more ground. He would've bet that they had come back to beat up their victims some more, which meant finding them as soon as possible was a priority, and finding out what exactly this was all about came only second, but there was no one of the first floor except for him. Nothing of interest for Hardison to hack, either, though the chatter in the coms told him that Parker had found a phone and a computer and, okay, he was willing to accept this one, because they clearly thought they were totally safe here. Even after their encounter this morning. And hearing the cops in the street.

 They were _so_ bad.

 “ _Eliot, I have nothing more here. You?_ ”

 “Pretty much nothing. Guess we should check the basement.”

 “ _Y'know, considering these guys probably learned how to be criminals in a children's book, this should have been the first thing to check,_ ” Hardison sighed.

 There was a groan on Parker's end, and yeah, the situation probably wasn't optimal for the Satos, but Eliot needed to take a second and contemplate the fact that these guys were apparently hopeless.

 He met downstairs with Parker, the door already open, and the look on her face perfectly mirrored his feelings. Even if these guys had done nothing, they would have had to stop them in the name of their professional honor.

 They climbed down the small flight of stairs quietly, and found that the three idiots were turning their back to them and _hadn't seen them coming_ and, really, this was ridiculous. They'd cornered what looked like two people and yep, there were the Satos, and their breathing sounded heavy and painful but it was there.

 “I'm going to ask one more time,” the black-hair woman said, and when Eliot tapped her shoulder politely she turned around with an impressive angry expression.

 Parker's taser and his fists did the rest, and soon they had three unconscious bad criminals at their feet. He set to find something to tie them up with as Parker went to the bewildered couple. He vaguely heard her explain everything was alright, and they were the ones they'd left their daughter to, and yes, they could see her again. The father – in bad shape, but nothing that couldn't heal – cried then, and the mother kept thanking them, and Parker lead them up the stairs to the van, asking Hardison if they'd thought of replenishing their first aid supplies in the van.

 Eliot was left alone in the basement, making sure his knots were solid, he heard the happy reunion between the parents and their daughter on the other side of the line. He felt weirdly empty.

 

///

 

 They'd driven everyone back to the brewpub and were literally stitching the Satos up themselves, because the cost of a few hours in a hospital were astronomical and this was nothing they weren't used to do anyway. Hardison carefully disinfected the father's last wound, bringing both sides of it together before he grabbed the needle.

 “Honestly I think someone just mixed up our address with another, and we found ourselves with a _Biblia latina_ from 1455, instead of our correct order. We didn't know what to do, so my boss tried calling people who could keep it in a safe environment, and wrote to the address on the package, but after a few days there was no answer from anybody, and we didn't want to keep it at the shop,” the father was explaining. “Sending it would have been the obvious solution, but we couldn't risk it getting lost again. And it had suffered from the journey. So I took it home, tried to keep it away from the sunlight or anything that could damage it further.”

 “Where was it? We didn't see anything like it when we were there either,” Eliot asked.

 “In the floor. There's a loose slat, right under the desk, we never got around fixing it,” the father smiled wearily. “After they came by the shop the fourth time, asking almost directly for it, I thought it was best to hide it. There are thought to be 180 copies, but none of the known books had been reported stolen, so as improbable as it sounded, we thought it might be a recently rediscovered Gutenberg Bible, and there was no way we'd leave it just lying around or give it to anybody. We wanted an actual expert to come and look at it, but before anyone could come, we'd been forced to leave.”

 “The people who kidnapped you were probably the actual buyers, but I guess they didn't really fit the profile of people who could have bought it legally,” Hardison pointed out.

 “Not with that attitude, no,” the father laughed.

 “This whole thing sounds like a bad novel, now that it's over,” the mother sighed, her daughter snuggled in her arms. “Thank you again,” she whispered.

 “Good thing you chose us to care for little Allison, right?” Hardison said. “You're doing great, man, just a few stitches left and you're free to go.”

 Samuel Sato nodded. It didn't feel right to leave them alone so soon, but he hadn't discussed anything with Parker and Eliot about letting strangers sleep in their home, and it already felt strange to see them on their couch.

 “We were really lucky, yes,” the mother agreed. “I never thought we would fall on a crime-fighting team that would come and _save_ us. _And_ take proper care of our baby. I don't know how we can ever repay you.”

 “So it _was_ really just a coincidence?” Parker asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

 Probably at the “crime-fighting” part. It wasn't exactly _wrong_ , but Hardison guessed that if she knew exactly what their line of work implied, she wouldn't use that kind of expression.

 “Well, not exactly. We tried leaving, but we couldn't get far with the baby, and then we hoped coming back to Portland would throw them off,” the mother explained. “We'd heard of you, a little, that you helped people, and when we came back we thought about coming to you, but they caught up to us too fast, and I just had the time to leave Allison so they wouldn't get her. I hoped she would be in good hands, but I didn't dare think that you would find us and...”

 “Why didn't you come to us in the first place?” Hardison interrupted.

 “Didn't think about it,” the father shrugged with the shoulder that wasn't attached to the arm Hardison was working on. “We were in a hurry, and it looked like running far away would be enough, at first.”

 “Let us visit from time to time,” Parker declared suddenly. “As a thank you.”

 Two heads whipped around in her direction, Eliot sporting the same surprised look as Hardison knew he was. They kept tabs on the people they helped, just in case someone tried to take revenge on them, but usually, that was all.

 “Your baby's cute,” and okay, Hardison must have reached the fourth dimension, or some pod person had replaced Parker while he wasn't looking. “and I think the boys like her, so.”

 Parker shrugged, like it was no big deal, completely ignoring the looks on her partners' faces.

 “I don't think that will be a problem,” the mother laughed.

 Then she and Parker launched into a discussion on taking care of babies and baby habits and growing teeth and eating solid food and this, this felt like an alternate universe to Hardison. He finished the stitches while Eliot struck up a conversation about their taste in books with the father, and totally filed away everything Eliot mentioned he liked as a possible gift, because the man was hard to shop for.

 They agreed to lend their bed to the Satos, who fell asleep under five minutes, exhausted after being kidnapped, tortured, saved and reunited with their daughter. Hardison didn't think he could sleep now anyway, not after hearing Parker talk, at length, about _babies_. After seeing her so anxious whenever she was near Allison, he'd thought she would avoid the subject, and even before this wasn't, by far, her favorite topic of conversation.

 She was sitting uncharacteristically still on the kitchen table, her head resting on her hands, eyes closed. Eliot was cooking behind her, some kind of pasta with meat and tomato sauce, but he glanced every minute at Parker. He didn't say anything, though, and neither did Hardison. They'd have to wait until Parker felt like talking, specifically talking about _what the hell_ that was. Maybe it was honest, maybe it was just the kind of socialization tactic she'd learned from Sophie. It was still weird.

 Hardison set to doing the dishes they'd left lying on the small table when they'd left for their rescue. The sink was far enough that he wasn't bothering Eliot, and for a few minutes they worked in silence side by side, their backs to Parker. The smell of the sauce was heavenly, and Hardison knew he was almost drooling, despite the fact that he wasn't even hungry yet. He scrubbed at the plates until they shone and rinsed thoroughly.

 A hand snuck up his back, and there was Parker between them, looking smaller than usual. She wasn't carrying herself with her usual energy and assurance, sometimes arrogance or anger, sometimes seduction or determination. She was just there, silent. She waited until they were both done.

 She reached up to them, dragging them closer by their waists, and they didn't resist. For a moment, the world was just the three of them.

 If anyone had asked Hardison, he wouldn't have been able to explain. Nothing was different, except the family sleeping in their bed, and the toys on their floor, and the food stain they couldn't remove on the wall. Two would be gone soon enough, and what remained could easily be covered – Hardison was a specialist in bringing back horrible tourist-y souvenirs to decorate their home. Everything around them was fundamentally the same.

 But maybe they had changed, a little, and it felt like a maybe, like new possibilities, new paths that they might explore together.

 For now, they hugged a little tighter, and more than anything, it felt like home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of precisions: they did not forget the bad guys, but left them where they were and dealt with them the following day, told the Satos to call the police but to not mention them. Also the Gutenberg Bible "was the first major book printed in the West using movable type". Around 160-180 copies are thought to have been printed but only 49 apparently have survived (partially or completely). "The price of a complete copy today is estimated at $25−35 million.[2][3] Individual leaves now sell for $20,000–$100,000, depending upon condition and the desirability of the page." (thank you Wikipedia). So, yeah, not your average book there.
> 
> Why why why do I never remember to format the thing better on the document before I past on ao3?
> 
> Title comes from a song I was listening to when I was looking for a title, because the working title was just "leverage thing a thon accidental baby acquisition fic". Yes, I _really_ wanted to use that tag. And though I was ready to choose at random, those lyrics looked like they would fit very well, because ultimately that's the point of their relationship: they are a whole, and they grow together.
> 
> I do not think that having a baby or kids is the ultimate goal and validation of a relationship, and hesitated about making Parker change her mind a little, but come on, imagine a baby being raised by them. Just wanted to make it clear, because I have mixed feelings on the issue of having kids myself. That's actually the kind of things I'd like to explore a little more in later fics ^^
> 
> Thank you for reading until here, I hope you liked it, please do leave a comment if you have the time!
> 
> Also come talk to me about leverage and the ot3 on [tumblr](http://asexualkurootetsurou.tumblr.com) I promise I don't bite.


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